


Raising The Dead

by Bohemian_seahorse



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn, Falsettos - Lapine/Finn (Broadway Cast) RPF
Genre: 1980s, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Magic, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Death, Dysfunctional Family, F/F, F/M, HIV/AIDS, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Necromancy, Not Canon Compliant, Snapshots, Spells & Enchantments, Therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:07:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29800635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bohemian_seahorse/pseuds/Bohemian_seahorse
Summary: Whizzer died. That's the part of the story everyone knows. That's how it always goes.But what if there was a spell? What if there was magic? What if Marvin found out that there was a way to bring Whizzer back?The question is: what really happens when you meddle with the force of life itself?
Relationships: Dr. Charlotte/Cordelia (Falsettos), Marvin/Trina (Falsettos), Trina/Mendel Weisenbachfeld, Whizzer Brown/Marvin
Comments: 9
Kudos: 15





	1. Welcome to Falsettoland

What if Whizzer didn't die? What if Marvin's heart wasn't broken? What if Trina and Mendel got that happy ending they wanted? What if, what if, what if?

It had been accepted. It had been dutifully, painfully dealt with. Life had given them a crappy hand, there was nothing to be done about that. Life worked that way.

Life is full of shameful, contagious diseases that sweep through communities and kill good men.

Life is full of strained, broken relationships that leave little boys stranded between an estranged father and a struggling mother.

Life is full of unlikely meetings, of tiny odds turning in the favour of psychiatrists and their patients.

But beyond all this, draw back the curtain, and you see that deep down everyone is hurt by life and its horrible choices. Everyone is wearing a mask to hide tears. Everyone's hearts are shattering inside their chests.

There are men who have to watch as their boyfriend fades. There are women who have to make difficult decisions. There are boys who don't know which house they belong in anymore.

There are the ones who get to die and the ones who have to live.

There's Trina. The perfect housewife. Always smiling and always loving. But there's the other side of Trina too. The side of her that is torn by her husband's affair, who is trying to support her son but on the verge of breaking down herself. And there's also the Trina who manages to find love again, forgive her ex, and be there for him when his boyfriend gets sick.

There's Marvin. Ego-centrical. Unreliable. Snide. But what about his other parts? Terrified to break his wife when he realises he's gay and in love with another. Determined to carry on being a role model to his son, even after everything he's done to that family. Distraught when he sees this man he's grown dependent on slip away.

There's Mendel. Caring. Loyal. Sensitive. Trying to love Trina in a way that isn't just professional, trying to help her as a lover, not just as a psychiatrist. But how do you help someone so confused? How to help a woman who is mourning her ex-husband's lover in the most bizarre turn of fate?

There's Jason. Intelligent. Lonely. Dependent. Having to learn to understand why his dad left Trina for another man, having to be taught not to hold grudges, having to see that he has two homes now. He's got to travel.

There's Charlotte and Cordelia who are there as nothing more than godmothers to Jason, to hold him when Trina and Marvin are too lost in their thoughts. They just wish the world could be simple again, not that it ever was particularly. But at least, before the catastrophe, things had a silver lining.

There was Whizzer. But he died three months ago. And when he died, everything fell apart. Even people who had seen him as an enemy in life, found themselves wishing he was alive. If not just so things could be easy again.

Whizzer was dead because the world was cruel. And everyone left behind was desperate to see him again.

A lover to Marvin, an inspiration to Jason, even an eventual friend to Trina. No one could hate him, and not just because he was dead. Because he was a good spirit. He was fun and he knew how to make you laugh, even on his deathbed.

Sometimes life is just awful. But sometimes there are miracles. Like this time. This time there was a spell, one that meant maybe everything could be normal. If it was real, maybe they could go back in time and do something to change how things ended up.

If this was true, maybe Whizzer could be brought back. Marvin's heart could be mended and Jason would have someone he trusted to talk to. Trina would be able to sleep again and Mendel would be able to relax, instead of constantly watching her.

But was it okay to bring someone back to life? Are dead best left buried beneath the earth? Are these people just a group of grieving fools willing to do whatever it takes to restore normality?

Magic is something best not messed with. Reanimation too. Both are risky, both can have consequences. But to someone like Marvin - so riddled with grief - anything seems worth it. No matter what Whizzer would've wanted.

No matter. No matter. If there is a chance, it will be taken.

Because the heart is a confusing thing. Once it learns how to beat in time with another's, someone is prepared to do whatever it takes to raise the dead.

But there is a beginning. The beginning here is when Marvin first found himself falling in love with Whizzer, when he first realised that he couldn't be with Trina anymore. There's also an end. But maybe this time, the end isn't Whizzer's death. 

But the beginning, that's where things need to start. The day Marvin listened to his heart. And lead from there, right up until he hears about this magic. See the effects of Whizzer's death, and then see that maybe death doesn't have to be permanent.


	2. The Thrill of First Love

Marvin's P.O.V

_**10 months before the death** _

"Your wife seems nice." Whizzer says, grinning.

I snort, "Yeah. Little unhinged though. Don't do anything to her furniture or it may be the last thing you ever do."

He laughs and flattens his shirt slightly. I don't know why I've been putting off introducing Whizzer and Trina for so long. I guess it's because they're both from completely different parts of my life.

Trina is the sensible part of me, the settled-down adult man. Whizzer is the immature, childish part of me, the youth just trying to break free. They're probably the most opposite you could get.

I didn't miss the looks she gave me the whole time as I showed her my friend. I get it, she wants to know she can trust me. I'm an asshole, but I'd never do anything bad to her. I respect her.

"I think I have a miniature." He says, "I'm pretty sure your son worships me or something."

That's just Jason. He clings onto anyone who offers him friendship. Well, anyone except me. He's never really looked to me as someone he can talk to. He doesn't really explain his feelings with anyone and Trina's considering getting him a therapist or something, but if I suggested it he'd just turn it away.

My family's dysfunctional. But we get by. Jason may not love me like I wish he would, and Trina may be suspicious of every person I talk to, but we've been going like this for years.

Whizzer's only been thrown into the mix recently. And it's taken me weeks to even admit his existence to my wife and son. I'll admit it hurts seeing how much Jason already loves him, but only because that's something my son will never feel towards me.

I'm just his pain in the ass father who can't be trusted. Trina would flip if Jason used that kind of language though, she's all about protecting his ears from the real world.

"Soon enough, he'll be dressing like you." I say.

Whizzer laughs, "Good."

"That'll be a nightmare." I say.

He just hits my arm, "That's only because you wouldn't know fashion if it slapped you in the face."

"What does that even mean?" I ask.

He smiles at me again, "It means you dress like a charity case, I dress like a king."

"Sure, sure." I say, patting his arm sarcastically, "But we don't want that ego of yours growing any bigger."

He laughs again and pushes me away, continuing to walk down the street.

I can't explain the joy of being around Whizzer. It's strange really, but my conversations are just so different to the formal ones me and Trina have been sharing. With him, I feel free. I feel like I can say whatever I want. I feel like a kid again, sneaking out to meet his best friend at the dead of night.

If I'm completely honest, Trina's seemed distant recently. She spends all day washes the dishes and cleaning the house and ironing clothes and seemingly jumping at the chance of a distraction from life.

Twice now have I found her just stood at the sink, staring blankly at the plates she's already scrubbed hard enough to chip.

So, there's Jason. I have a son who doesn't see me as a father, just as a man who'd rather be out with friends than at home. And there's Trina. I have a wife who seems to have withdrawn into some kind of shell.

But I also have Whizzer, and he makes everything else okay. Because I can tell him what's on my mind without being laughed at. I can tell him that my family's falling apart because I know he won't think I'm just being controlling old Marvin, he'll believe me.

That's what counts. Having people who believe the words you say, instead of thinking you're just after attention as usual.

Reputations often proceed people. I am one of those people. When you have a history of being a dick, it's very rare to find someone willing to see the good side of you.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

He just laughs, "You'll see."

So I wait until I see. I replay the encounter with Trina and Whizzer in my home.

Why did she look so uncomfortable? Why did she not want to shake his hand? Why did she seem to glare at me when she said, "welcome to our house."

So what? I've spent time out of the house. I've neglected my duties as a parent. I've avoided my wife. But only because my son doesn't like me, no matter how hard I try, and my wife is completely withdrawing for no reason. If she could just tell me what was on her mind, I could make an effort to sort it.

One hour ago - feels like only seconds have passed - Whizzer walked into the house and asked me why Trina was just watching the minutes tick by on the oven clock. I hadn't any answers. I know nothing about my wife anymore, just that she loved me once.

One hour ago my two worlds collided and I asked myself why the hell I'd been so worried about this moment. Jason rushed into the room, hugged Whizzer, and told him that they were going to be friends and play chess together. And I just laughed because if my son can't have a bond with me, at least he can with my friend.

Why did Trina seem so tense the whole time? Why did she look at Whizzer like he was a threat? Why won't she tell me anything anymore? What have I done wrong? We used to have fun together, now we just keep ourselves busy with other things.

"Why are we at the bar?" I ask.

Whizzer shakes his head, smiling.

"To celebrate you finally growing a pair!" He shouts, "Hear that? Marvin's becoming a man!"

"Are you sure you need any alcohol?" I ask.

He grins widely, "Drunk me is far more entertaining."

"I'll take your word for it." I mutter.

He grabs my hand and drags me through the door. I don't know why my body suddenly becomes hyper-alert, why I'm suddenly so aware of the contact of his hand in mine. Probably just because it's unusual to have physical contact.

Or it's something else altogether. Something I remember from the days at high school when I met Trina. I mentally pray that this isn't the case - it was okay back then, when I wasn't tied down by marriage. Now it would be dirty, especially to fall for another man.

That can't be what this is. I refuse to accept it.

As I sit down at a table with Whizzer, guilt hits me. At home are my wife and son, all too used to my absences by now. I bet they aren't even disappointed anymore when I walk out the door, it's so familiar.

The room is full of sounds. Conversations drift in and out my head, the smell of beer and whiskey muddling my thoughts and making the voices seem too loud. Cigarette smoke fills the bar, coming from the mouth of the bored bartender.

It reminds me why I hate bars. But I see Whizzer's hopeful smile and I also remember why I love bars. Because depressing places like this make him happy and, shamefully, I would do anything to please him.

"Let's get drunk." He grins.

Trina may be at home, locked away in her mind. Jason may be at home, wondering why his father never wants to be there. But Whizzer's here and I'm here and right now, I'm glad that life threw the two of us into each other's paths.

I'm glad that I met him. But I'm not glad when I'm hit with the truth.

As I look into Whizzer's eyes, I see what's happening. I've been here before. I recognise this mess. I'm falling in love with him, and I think he's falling in love with me too.


	3. Unlikely Lovers

Marvin's P.O.V

_**9 and a half months before the death** _

“I’m getting him a therapist.” Trina says, looking up from the mixing bowl. Her hands are covered in flour and her hair is in a hasty bun. She looks like she hasn’t slept well for several nights. 

“Oh.” I say, “Okay.” 

She wipes her hands down the apron, leaving white powdery prints, and sighs. I ask myself when the last time was that I felt she truly let me inside her head, but come up short. Was it really so long ago? 

Her mind works too fast and her body can barely cope, and yet she still tells me nothing. And that’s why I conclude that this thing she’s grappling with must be something to do with me. 

Me and my new friend I spend every day with. Me and my son who hardly knows me. Me and my wife who I’m not even sure loves me anymore. And even worse, I’m not sure I love her either. 

We did once. But we were kids then, and people change as they grow. Trina used to be adventurous and I used to be charming. Now she’s anxious and I’m irritating. All we do is get on each other’s nerves. 

I know what it felt like when we married. I remember the feeling of powerful love. But now, when I search the air, I can find hardly a trace of that force. All I see is discomfort and awkwardness and a strained marriage. 

We don’t love each other anymore, but the real question is:

Will either of us speak up about it? 

The kitchen door slams open and Jason holds his mouth open mid-word. He looks at me like he’s surprised I’m even here, and that hurts. The only reason I’m never here is because I’m pushed away, because he rejects all my attempts to build a relationship. 

I’m never here because everyone in this house has decided I’m the villain, but outside somewhere is a person who still thinks I’m the hero. 

“Mum.” Jason says quietly, turning his eyes away from me, “Can you play chess with me yet?” 

Trina seems to deflate, “You’ve finished your homework already?” 

Jason nods eagerly. And if he would give me a chance, I’d be proud of him and his intellect. I’d tell him that he’s going places and that he should hold onto his dreams because he can achieve anything he puts his mind to. 

But of course, I’m just the person who made him. I’m not his father. I’m the only person in the world he’ll never seek praise from. A bitter part of my brain tells me that he’d probably go running to Whizzer to say how quickly he finishes work, even after only meeting a couple of weeks ago. 

And I can imagine it. Whizzer would ruffle his hair and say that he’s smarter than he was at that age. And they’d be like father and son, me on the outside as always. 

I can’t stand this. I can’t watch these nightmares flash before my eyes. I can’t see the tattered remains of a once beautiful family.

“I’m going out.” I say. 

I remember when Jason was born. I was so excited to be able to care for such a vulnerable creature. I couldn’t wait to show the world that I really could do good. I was going to rub it in everyone’s faces when my son grew up to be a great man. 

See how quickly even the best laid plans can be torn apart. 

Trina fixes me with this cold, exhausted look. Jason just stares at his feet. 

“Let me guess,” She says sourly, “Meeting Whizzer again?” 

I don’t know what she hates so much about that. I have friends. I have friends that allow me to escape from my crazy reality. Is that such a crime? Do I deserve being grilled for that? 

Is she jealous? 

“Yes.” I say. 

And a dark look takes over her face, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Jason watches helplessly from the doorway, and I feel guilty. No child should have to deal with a crying mother alone. 

But I remind myself it’s his fault. It’s their fault. None of them let me in, so I’ll just stay out. If that’s the role they’ve designed for me, if that’s the box they want to put me in, so be it. 

“Enjoy yourself.” She says in this shaking voice, “Give Whizzer my best.” 

And I leave them. I leave Trina as she turns around and lets her tears fall onto the pastry, Jason running to hug her waist as he cries too. 

“I won’t.” I say, destroying the last scraps of our love with two words.

…

“So, you just walked out?” Whizzer asks, frowning. 

I can feel it and I want to ask if he can too. Just the same as I can feel the empty hole mine and Trina’s love once occupied, I can feel this warmth blossoming in my heart where mine and Whizzer’s love is just starting to take root. 

It’s in the way he looks at me, in the little messages that anyone else would miss. There’s something in those dark eyes that glints and tells me that these feelings aren’t imaginary, they’re really happening. 

I’m really falling in love again, with someone who I met by a happy accident, with someone so much better than me. And I want to talk to him about it, but I’m scared of just being brushed off. And then there’s the issue of Trina. 

God, I’m a mess. I’m falling for a man, which in my mind is surely a crime. Especially at this time, with this disease going around. That’s like announcing I have a death wish. Maybe it’d be safer if I hid it and just kept pretending to love Trina, even when her body language is telling me that her feelings aren’t the same as they once were either. 

I can’t hurt Jason by telling him I’m another one of those homosexuals doomed to get that gay disease. I may not be a proper father to him, but I don’t think I can cope with leaving completely. I walk out the door with ease, but only when I know I’ll be back. 

“I walked out.” I say, “Because I’m an asshole.” 

“No you aren’t.” He says softly, “You’re just troubled.” 

“What the hell?” I ask, folding my arms and glowering at him. 

“I mean you’ve got a lot of stuff you’re worrying about.” He says. 

“I guess.” 

I sit in this suffocating silence, in this man’s house, locked in my own thoughts. He’s sat too close to me, his face is too near mine. Our legs are almost touching. This isn’t right. I can’t do this. I can’t damage my family any further. 

I walk out my home, I come here, I tell Whizzer everything. This is some sick routine by now. I’m driving myself mad. I just want to make sense of the things my brain tells me. I want to know who I love and who loves me. 

“Can I tell you something?” He asks quietly. 

“Of course.” I say. He lets me complain about every little thing, and he still feels the need to ask to get something off his own chest? He’s either far too sweet and considerate, or is less confident than he comes across. 

I watch as Whizzer looks into his lap, his hair falling in front of his eyes in - dare I say it - a quite attractive way. He breathes in deeply and I realise that this is probably one of the first times he’s talked to me without eye contact - without that bright, bubbly smile. 

“I’m gay.” He whispers. 

And that’s when everything blows up. I shouldn’t be near him. I shouldn’t be his friend. Trina would go ballistic, tell me that he probably has that disease and will infect me too. But I’m not her and there’s something in his oddly vulnerable expression that softens my heart. 

It’s taken him all the months of knowing each other to tell me this. It seemed so hard. I’m sure he’s been trying to find courage to say it this whole time, and I’d be cruel to discard him because of it. 

But God, this changes things. And I hate shocks. I hate the unknown. 

“You’re - that’s - I -”

“Lost for words?” He chuckles weakly, “I’m not contagious.” 

“Right.” I say. 

But he’s staring at me and I’m staring back and there’s this fluttering in my stomach. I know this feeling, I know it well. As much as I don’t want it, I can’t ignore it. I can’t deny it. I’m in love with my friend - my gay friend. 

“How do you know that you’re - you know - gay?” I ask. 

He raises an eyebrow and smiles, “Because I dream about dick.” 

And Whizzer’s laughing again and everything should be normal, but it isn’t. Everything has changed because now I’m questioning if we really are both feeling the same way. Am I gay too? 

But I have a wife. How could I only just figure this out now? How would she react - if I tell her that I’m actually gay and in love with my friend and that maybe I only loved her when I hadn’t got myself figured out. 

Maybe that’s why I don’t love her anymore. But why does she not seem to love me? What equally upsetting secret is she harbouring? 

I just want a relationship that makes sense. Is that allowed? Can I just have a love that will endure? Can I sort this out with hurting Trina, and get to spend the rest of my life with Whizzer? With him could I finally have something long-lasting? 

“Whizzer.” I say.

“Marvin.” He echoes, smirking. 

And I appreciate his trying to make light of this, but it’s not what I need now. I need reassurance. I need to know that these feelings aren’t just one-sided and that I haven’t been imagining all the subtle advances on his side. 

I need to know that he loves me too, before I decide how the hell to break this to Trina. 

“Am I the only one who feels this?” I ask, looking into his eyes. 

“Feels what?” He asks, his face dropping slowly. 

“The tension.” I say. 

“Marvin.” He says.

“Whizzer.” I say, “I think I’m gay too.” 

And he laughs and stands up and it’s like a knife to the heart. Why does no one listen? Why am I always just laughed off and pushed out? Why can’t I feel like someone cares for once? 

But there’s something wrong with his face. His jaw is too tight and his eyes have a glossy sheen over them. His hands are stuffed into his pockets and I’m sure they’re shaking under all the fabric. 

What have I done? 

This man is my safe space. He’s my lifeboat. Everything in my house gets messy and I come here. He talks to me, he listens, he helps. He’s my reprieve. With him is the only time I can feel happy. 

“Funny joke.” He says, his voice wobbling, “I’m going to get drunk.” 

And something just cracks in me. He can’t run from this, just like I always do. I just want to talk, I want to know what’s going on between us and what we can do about it. What doesn’t he understand? 

“You can’t just run.” I say, “Getting drunk won’t solve all your problems.”

He just looks at me with wounded eyes and he smiles darkly. 

“I know that. But at least it can let me forget them.” He says. 

But something stops him walking out the door, something keeps his feet in this spot. He starts to cry silently, the first time I’ve seen him do this, and puts his head in his hands. 

I want to move, I want to do something. But I don’t know how. I’m useless. I’ve never seen him so weak, so raw. It’s normally the other way around, and when put in his position, I’m lost. 

“I love you.” He says quietly, “But that’s not allowed.”

And even if I’m not absolutely certain about this, I let myself say it anyway:

“I think I love you too.”

Whizzer looks at me and he smiles slightly, wiping away his tears. He walks back over and sits on the sofa next to me, our legs too close again. Except this time I think he’s doing it on purpose. This time I know he’s gay and I know I love him and I know that this is really happening. 

We just sit here for a minute, letting everything wash over us. I almost forget Trina and Jason and what this will do to them. But then again, maybe if I storm out that house for good, it’ll just be a blessing to them. 

“What do we do now?” He asks. 

This is the first time I’ve seen him so unsure. I always turn to him for the answers. But this is a subject that perplexes even the greatest of minds. No man can be ready for this moment. 

“I’d say we try it.” I say, “But what about Trina?” 

I can’t go behind her back. I can’t betray her. I may not be in love with her anymore, but we’re married and she’s still someone I respect. I’ve already put her through enough, I can’t cheat on her too. 

Maybe she’ll be okay with it. Maybe I’m just scared of the future. 

“We can think of ways for you to tell her.” Whizzer says, “But while we plan it, maybe we can just be happy.” 

And when he presses his lips to mine, I decide that this is okay. We can keep doing this while I think about what to tell Trina. I don’t have to worry about what to say to her, because in the meantime I can have kisses like this. 

I can have a love that will last while I debate how to break my wife’s heart.


	4. What More Can I Say

Marvin's P.O.V

_**9 months before the death** _

“His name is Mendel.” Trina says, “He comes highly recommended and I’m sure he can help Jason.” 

“Help Jason with what?” I ask, “The kid’s fine.” 

She glares at me and it hits me that I know nothing about my son. I don’t know if he’s fine.

“Marvin.” She says carefully, “Jason has no friends and he won’t talk to me about his feelings.” 

Just like she won’t talk to me about hers. I guess it runs in the family. Has she considered that she needs a therapist too? 

I can hardly look at her. Each time I see her face, I imagine the tears when I tell her that me and Whizzer have been sharing kisses and sweet words for a couple of weeks now, all while weighing up how to tell her the news. 

I spend less time in the house because I know soon I’ll be thrown out for good. 

“I’m worried about him.” She says, “He works extra hard on his schoolwork but doesn’t answer any of my questions.” 

This is my fault, isn’t it? I’m upsetting him by not being around. He can’t cope with just one parent. And I do care about him. I love him. He’s my son and I would do anything for him, it’s just that he doesn’t want me to fight for him. He doesn’t want me at all. 

“Well, when’s this Mendel guy coming?” I ask. I don’t want to be in to watch my kid confess his secrets to some random man. 

And then the doorbell rings. 

“That’s him.” Trina says, and she disappears to answer it, leaving me to stand in the kitchen and wonder why the hell I’m here and not at Whizzer’s. Why am I in this place where I’m so unwanted? 

My thoughts are broken by the strangest sound. It’s Trina laughing, actually laughing - a thing I don’t remember happening for years. Whoever this man is, he’s a real charmer, and he’s already got her around his finger just like I used to. 

Of course I want to hear her laugh. But it’s just a bit hard to swallow. Someone who’s only just walked in has already made her happier than I have in years. The last time I can recall hearing this particular laugh - the one filled with uncontrolled joy - was on our honeymoon when I took her to a very unromantic beach. 

That was two years ago. And that was the last time I remember her being at ease around me. Maybe our marriage really hasn’t been working, and my eyes have only just been opened to that. 

Trina and this man - who I assume is Mendel - walk into the kitchen. Her eyes are lit up, the corners creased, and she looks so blissfully joyful that I almost don’t recognise her. We really aren’t meant for each other. 

How did the universe’s matchmaker end up so dreadfully wrong? Can’t the world see that I am not the man Trina wants, and I don’t want a woman at all. 

“You must be Marvin.” Mendel says, shaking my hand. 

He has a mop of uncontrolled curls and a friendly face. I can see why Trina would choose him to meet Jason. I can see why she’d choose him over me. 

“You know my name?” I ask. 

He laughs, “Trina’s mentioned you once or twice in our sessions.” 

I look at her in confusion. 

“Sessions? What sessions?” I ask her. 

Trina looks at the floor, “I’ve been seeing Mendel for therapy for a few months now.” 

How much has she been hiding? What does she talk to this man about in her sessions? Does she talk about me? About what a bad husband I am, always running from responsibility and spending all my time with Whizzer? 

That’s why Mendel made her laugh so much. Because they know each other and she trusts him. She tells him what’s on her mind, because he’s a professional. But she doesn’t tell me a word, because I’m just in the way. 

Mendel smiles at me again. His and Trina’s hands are hanging so close that their fingers are almost brushing. Why do I pick up on things like this? Why does my head over-analyse every sign? 

Does Trina tell Mendel that she doesn’t love me anymore? Or is that not even the case? Is that just another thing I’m tricking myself into believing? 

“So.” Mendel says, “Can you just tell me a bit about Jason before I see him?” 

Him and Trina pull up chairs to the dining table and sit. I’m a second behind as I copy them and do the same. They seem so in sync, leaving me to choke on their dust. I remember when me and her were in tune like that. I remember when we knew each other. 

“He’s very clever.” Trina says, “He excels in all his subjects and he’s such a sweet boy. But he struggles making friends. Other kids often find him…”

“Weird?” Mendel supplies. 

“Yeah, weird. He spends his free time playing chess alone for God’s sake!” Trina rubs at her eyes, “He needs someone to talk to, and neither of us seem able to offer him that.” 

I don’t miss the look she gives me. Stop with the blame game okay. It isn’t my fault! If they don’t even act like they want me, I won’t make an effort. It’s all them, no matter if Whizzer tells me I’m just looking for someone to dump the guilt onto. It’s because of them that I’m never here. 

“I’ll just have a small conversation then.” Mendel says, “Get to know him and if he feels comfortable with me, we can arrange another session.” 

“Thank you.” Trina says, “Are we okay to stay?” 

“Should be fine.” He says. 

And she goes to find Jason. 

Mendel turns to me and I see that this is a trap. 

“While Trina’s getting Jason,” He says, “I was wondering if you’d want a small session yourself.” 

No way. I want anything but that. I don’t need some man my wife is close with prodding around inside my mind. I don’t want to be examined like some freaky specimen or exhibit. 

“You don’t have to.” He adds, “I just thought it might be good for you.” 

Maybe he’s right. Maybe I do need someone to help me understand my emotions. But not someone that’s probably going to report straight back to Trina. That means I can’t say certain things. 

“I guess.” I say. 

“Great.” He smiles, “So, can you explain to me why you feel distant from your son?” 

Jumping right in, are we? Right into the juicy bit. I see what game he’s playing. He acts all nice, waltzing into my home, only to interrogate me and pick apart my family. 

“Because he won’t talk to me.” I say, “All I ever wanted was to be a father with a kid who loved me, but he doesn’t talk to me, only ever to Trina.” 

He hums quietly, “And why is that? Why does he not have a bond with you?” 

“I don’t know!” I say. 

He looks me in the eye. 

“Is it because you’ve never been there for him?” 

“What?” I demand, “What’s Trina been telling you?” 

“Nothing.” He says, “She just worries how much time you spend out with friends.” 

With Whizzer. Because I love him. Because he lets me talk. Because with him I don’t have to act like something I’m not. He likes even the ugly side of me, whereas Trina would tell me that I need to get my act together. 

Because I don’t belong in this house and I don’t have the same love for my wife anymore. Because all they ever do is moan at me and tell me what I’m doing wrong and never give me a chance to redeem myself. 

“It’s their fault!” I shout, “They never tell me anything! They’re always hiding! Trina’s clearly not okay, but she doesn’t let me help! Jason won’t even give me a chance to know him!”

Mendel doesn’t look surprised by my outburst. He just waits until my breathing is calmer, before speaking again. 

“Can you hear what you’re saying?” He asks gently, “You’re blaming a 12 year-old kid and a struggling wife for your own insecurity. I think that maybe, you’re just looking for someone to put the blame on so that you don’t hate yourself for it.” 

“You’re wrong.” I say, “It’s their fault. It’s their fault that I was even out that night and met Whizzer in the first place.” 

Mendel looks intrigued. 

“Who?” He asks. 

I’ve done it now. Maybe he knew nothing about Whizzer. But now he does. Now I’m that bit closer to outing myself, to having everything blow up before I’m ready to admit to it. 

“A while back, I tried to ask Jason about some stuff.” I say, “I was asking about school, but he wouldn’t have it. He really hates me, completely shuts down. He just asked why I was acting like I cared now, told me to just leave him alone. It hurt. I’d never been directly rejected by him.” 

He nods, signals me to keep going. 

“I walked out, as usual, left Trina to comfort him. He likes her.” I say, “I ended up in a bar and met this guy - Whizzer. We hit it off, I guess, and agreed to meet the next day.” 

I kept going out to see him. I put my family in second place for this man I didn’t know. Because with him, I was okay. I wasn’t hurting because I didn’t know how to reach out to Jason. I wasn’t wondering what was going on with Trina. I was just me and he was just him and we were just us. 

I suppose it is all my fault. I don’t make an effort. I get angry. If someone pushes, I don’t shove back. I just cave in and do what I’m best at - walking out the door and letting my furious mind give them all the blame. 

“You know Marvin,” Mendel says, “I think Jason wants to love you, he’s just upset that you never put in the effort. I think you’re a good guy but you need to let go of your anger. And you need to be honest with Trina.” 

And he’s right. I don’t put in an effort. I act like I’m trying with Jason, but really I’m not. I ask him questions but I don’t mean them, and that’s why he turns me away. Maybe I should try to be a father one day soon. 

But being honest with Trina? The way Mendel says that it makes me want to ask if he knows about me and Whizzer. But that’s ridiculous. He’s a psychiatrist, not a mind reader. He just means it as a general rule. 

And maybe he’s got a point. But I don’t know if I’m ready to tell her yet. I don’t want to see her hurt because of me. 

There are footsteps and Trina and Jason appear at the bottom of the stairs. There’s something in the way she smiles at Mendel that reminds me of the look I give Whizzer. My brain reminds me of my previous suspicion that I’m not the only one falling out of love. 

But I’m just seeing things as I want to, just like I put the blame on people so I don’t come out as the bad guy. 

“Jason, this is Mendel.” Trina says softly. 

Jason looks him up and down and suddenly bursts into tears, hugging Mendel tightly while Trina watches with sad eyes. 

“Are you here to help my mum and dad?” He asks. 

Mendel smiles at him gently, “I’m going to try.” 

And maybe Jason does want to love me, maybe he does want us to get along as a family. But I think it’s too late for that. I don’t think anything can sort out mine and Trina’s relationship or make me the perfect father to my son. 

I don’t think Mendel can help us. Not if he knew what secrets I had. 

… 

“So, you’ve got a psychiatrist?” Whizzer asks with an amused smile. 

“It isn’t funny.” I say, “He told me that apparently I blame people because of my insecurity or some shit.” 

He looks at me, “And you haven’t considered that what he says might be true?”

Not him too. Why is the world turning against me? Why do I have to be the one who everyone hates? 

I see Whizzer. I see his face and I see his concern and I think maybe he’s right. Maybe Mendel’s right. Maybe I need to relax. Maybe I need to stop being so annoyed at my family. Maybe I need to accept my own mistakes for once. 

“I’m just scared.” I whisper, “What happens now? I have you, but soon enough Trina has to know. I don’t love her anymore but I still care.” 

Whizzer takes my hand in his. A month ago that would’ve sent me into a panic overload. Now it’s become too normal. I don’t ever want to take it for granted. I want to feel the thrill forever. 

“Listen.” He says, “I’ll be right next to you when you tell her. I can explain things to Jason. You not telling her only makes it worse. She may be hurt at first, but over time she’ll appreciate that you being honest was the kind thing to do - rather than keep lying until she finds out herself.” 

Doing that will just drive Jason away for good. Oh look, your father wants to be closer to you. But he’s actually gay and secretly dating his best friend even though he’s married. He’s full of lies. 

They both already have to go to therapy. I can’t do this. 

“She’s never done anything wrong.” I say, “This is so mean.” 

“Perhaps.” Whizzer says, “But it’s life. Life’s shit sometimes. I know Trina doesn’t like me, but I have no ill intentions towards her. I really am suggesting you do this because I know it’s the right thing.” 

“So you’re not the psycho boyfriend after revenge?” I ask. 

He laughs quietly, “Just the guy who wants his boyfriend to be free of all these burdens.” 

I smile at him, “You know, you’re probably the best thing in my life right now.” 

“Oh I don’t doubt that.” He says. 

“Shut up.” I laugh, “I’m trying to be genuine here.” 

“Please continue then.” Whizzer says, resting his head on my shoulder, “I’d like to hear the full speech of all the reasons why I’m amazing.” 

He’s joking, but I probably could offer one. He doesn’t care when I’m being selfish or rude. He understands why I get so mad at Jason and Trina, but knows I don’t mean any of it. And most of all, he stays with me. He doesn’t leave. He sits and he waits until I get better. 

“I’m glad I met you.” I say quietly. 

“Damn right you are.” He laughs, “But I’m glad I met you too.” 

I keep holding his hand tightly in mine, letting him lean against my side. This is what happiness is. This is peace. This makes everything else worthwhile. 

“I’ll always be here.” He whispers, “I promise that I’ll never leave you alone.”


	5. Love Is Blind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lesbiansssss

Marvin's P.O.V

_**8 and a half months before the death** _

Jason has therapy with Mendel every day after school. My own son won’t talk to me, but he will to this man who insists we don’t even pay him. I admit that makes me jealous.

I admit I don’t like the way Trina smiles at him, a smile that was once reserved only for me. I don’t like this man who practically lives here now, who’s allowed to call this his home, who’s in it more often than I am. 

What’s worse is that he lets me shove him. He lets me leave snide remarks. He just tells me that he understands how hard this is for me, he understands my insecurity. He’ll be there to listen if I need it. 

I’m not insecure and I certainly don’t need Mendel to help me. He’s Trina and Jason’s shrink, not mine. I’m the sane one here. 

Mendel can’t tell us about all of Jason’s confessions in his sessions, but he lets us in on a few key things: Jason is afraid of being alone, Jason wishes me and Trina could get along, Jason wishes that he had a family like the other kids at school, Jason hates me but he wants to love me. 

Why is this psychiatrist always here? Surely all these hours aren’t just his job. How much do they have to talk about? How many things have I done wrong? 

This man, his kind words, his pretty smiles, the laughs he draws out of Trina. None of this should be happening. None of this should be in my home. I don’t care if this is the old me shining through, I don’t want Mendel here anymore. 

When the doorbell rings, I’m certain it’s Mendel again. I’m actually ready to turn him away, to stop him from getting in this door. I don’t want any more of that patronising, caring tone. Fucking false sympathy is doing my head in. 

“Marvin, answer the door!” Trina calls from upstairs, “I’ll be down in a minute.” 

I sigh and walk over to open it, prepared to tell Mendel The Empathetic to get lost. But my thoughts seem to falter when I see two smiling women on my doorstep. 

“Hi!” One of them grins. She has curled blonde hair and both arms are full of little tupperware boxes and something wrapped in tin foil. 

“Dee!” The other woman scolds playfully. She has dark skin and is wearing doctor’s scrubs, “You need to tell the poor man who you are, not just shout in his face.”

The blonde laughs, “Right! I’m Cordelia!” 

She shakes my hand firmly and I wonder how the hell she’s managing to not drop any of her containers. It’s impressive. 

“I’m Charlotte.” The other says, “We’re your new lesbian neighbours. Just thought you’d like to meet us.” 

I’d completely forgotten that the people next door were even moving house. I’m aware that I probably look incredibly rude - just stood here staring at these people. They might think I’m offended by them or something.

They’re forward, they’re risky, putting their relationship status out there like that. To the wrong person, that could trigger something vile. Luckily I’m in a similar situation and have no place to judge. 

Luckily they seem like friendly people who genuinely want to know me, which shocks me far too much. 

“Marvin.” I say, smiling at them, “Nice to meet you.” 

The air is awkward until Trina appears beside me, an obviously fake smile plastered on her face. Is it just me or do her eyes look red? She claps her hands together and I admit it’s convincing, but only to people who don’t know her. 

It doesn’t convince me, not that I really know her anymore. I did once. Before I realised I was wrong about my love and before she got a psychiatrist. Now I know nothing about her, but I still know that isn’t a real smile. 

“I’m Trina.” She says, “Would you like to come in?” 

“That’d be lovely.” Charlotte smiles gently. 

Trina fiddles with the wedding ring on her finger. A metaphor? A symbol? Or just a nervous habit? 

“Great.” She says, “I’ve just baked some banana bread.” 

Cordelia’s eyes light up. 

“You like to cook?” She asks, and Trina nods. She doesn’t just like to bake. She does it obsessively and it’s really scary when she’s focused on a recipe book. It’s like she just zones out and forgets about the rest of the world. 

“We’ll get along great then!” Cordelia says, “I’m a caterer, see. I do weddings, bar mitzvahs, the occasional funeral. Well, recently, I’ve been doing quite a few more funerals than usual.” 

Charlotte gives her a pointed look and she shuts her mouth, smiling apologetically. I want to hear more. She’s talking about this disease I’ve heard whispers of, the one I momentarily panicked Whizzer might have when he told me he was gay.

The world seems to have put a cap on this disease. It’s like someone’s given the order to not put anything about it in the papers, try to keep it underground. But how can you hide something that’s killing hundreds of frightened victims each day? How can someone think that’s morally okay? 

Judging by her clothes, Charlotte’s a doctor. She probably works at the hospital a few blocks away. Maybe she knows something about the disease that’s scaring world leaders into pretending it doesn’t exist. It must be a vicious killer, whatever it is, for them to avoid talking about it like this. 

Maybe I just like to know all the facts, or maybe I’m right and there’s something seriously wrong with this international secret. 

The gay disease, that’s what they call it down here. They say it’s embarrassing. They say that doctors can’t treat it. They say that once you have it, you’re a dead man walking. They say that you will be scrutinised and spat on and told that it’s your fault for going against the Lord. 

They say it’s dehumanising and will rid you of any sense of human pride you have left. 

“Well,” Trina says, “You can come around whenever and we can brainstorm some recipes.” 

Cordelia grins, “Sure.” 

They follow my wife inside. I watch as they look around the hallway and I get this irrational fear that they hate the house, that they’ve decided they don’t want to know us after all. God, what’s wrong with me? 

This is what Mendel would say is me expressing my insecurity onto other objects. Not that I care about what he says. He probably just tells me all that to make me feel inferior, to make me feel crazy. 

Trina gestures to the table, where Cordelia places her boxes. Now that we’re inside, there’s a scent of chicken and fish coming from them. Mixed with the banana bread steaming on the side, it’s a strange combination. 

“Welcome to our home.” Trina says. 

I notice the way her smile turns sour when she says “our.” A wave of guilt runs through me.

“Mum!” Jason’s voice comes from upstairs, “Who’s there?” 

Charlotte and Cordelia look at us. 

“You have a son?” Cordelia asks. 

“His name’s Jason.” Trina says. She raises her voice and shouts to him, “The new neighbours!”

“Can we meet him?” Cordelia asks excitedly. 

Charlotte puts a hand on her arm, “Dee.” 

“Sorry!” Cordelia says, “I don’t want to intrude on anything! I’ve just always wanted children.” 

Trina looks over at me and we seem to share the first moment of understanding in several months. For once, we’re on the same page. We both know how much Jason wants to meet new people, but we also know that it’s unhealthy for his only friends to be adults. 

He thinks Mendel’s his friend. He thinks Whizzer’s his friend after meeting him once (then again, they both share the same childish sense of humour, so it does make sense). Do we really want him seeing these women as his friends too? 

But I remember what Mendel said - damn that man for being so right - about Jason needing to branch out and introduce more people into his life. 

Trina walks over to the bottom of the stairs and sighs. 

“Jason!” She calls, “Do you want to meet them?” 

And immediately there’s the sound of heavy feet, of a child rushing out of his room and down the stairs. He doesn’t even seem deterred by me being here today, which I see as a small victory in a huge war. 

He takes one look at the boxes on the table and grins. 

“Is that food?” He asks. 

Cordelia smiles even wider than him, picking up a box and taking off the lid. She holds it out to him, and he hesitates for a second, glancing at Trina to make sure it’s okay. She nods and smiles - a real smile this time - and he reaches in. 

“I’ve been practicing traditional Jewish food.” Cordelia says proudly, “I’m getting quite good.” 

Charlotte rolls her eyes and takes a piece of fish, popping it in her mouth. 

“I can laugh.” She says, “But it’s true. Dee’s the best cook I know.” 

“It’s amazing!” Jason says, going for more, which makes Cordelia’s smile even bigger. 

I look at the two women. 

“You’re Jewish?” I ask. 

“I am.” Charlotte says, “Dee isn’t, but everything she cooks is kosher.” 

Jason’s staring at them both with admiration. Even Trina looks happy. It’s like we’re a real family right now. Wife, husband and son sharing a meal with our neighbours. It’s like everything’s alright. 

I wish it really was. I wish this little illusion could last forever. But magic isn’t a thing and this is all just a mind trick. It’ll all be bad again tomorrow. 

Trina brings her banana bread to the table, Cordelia and Charlotte both telling her how good it tastes. She smiles politely and dodges my eyes, tells Jason to not chew with his mouth open. 

“So Jason,” Cordelia says, “How old are you?” 

“I’m twelve, but my teachers say my mind’s at least fourteen.” He boasts. 

Charlotte hums softly, smirking, “That’s more than Dee’s mental age.” 

Cordelia smacks her arm and gasps in mock outrage as Jason giggles. I wonder why they don’t have kids, they certainly know how to talk to them. Better than I do anyway. 

Again, I look at Charlotte’s white scrubs. 

“You’re a doctor?” I ask. 

“Yes.” She says, “It’s the most fulfilling but devastating job there is.” 

“Do you enjoy it?” Trina asks. 

Charlotte sighs and smiles, “I love it, wouldn’t trade it for anything. But the hours are soul-destroying and you always end up so close to the patients. It’s like losing a friend if you aren’t able to save them.” 

Trina nods. 

I can’t imagine being a doctor. How does she cope with watching all those people die? I get that it must feel great when she saves someone, but for every one that makes it, there are another two that don’t. 

Especially now. How does she manage with this disease sweeping through communities mercilessly? She must know there’s no cure, must know there’s nothing she can do, but still has to bring them medication and stay by their side as they slowly fade. 

She has to pretend to be optimistic and tell them that things will be okay, while everyone knows that they’re going to die. 

Maybe it isn’t that bad and I’m exaggerating. But the point is that I can’t begin to know how she stays sane with a job like that, with people dropping dead in rooms all around. What would she do if someone she loved was to occupy one of those sterile beds?

What would I do if someone I loved was to lie in one of those beds, unable to do anything but fight against the inevitable and approaching death? Knowing that it will only delay it for a few days and that there’s no hope for a happy ending. 

Trina falls into small talk with the neighbours as I let my thoughts roam. I’m picturing it, the most horrible thing, someone I love dying - Whizzer, reduced to a shell of the bold man I know, his eyes dark and haunted as that gay disease makes its way through his veins. 

My nightmares, ever since I found out he was gay. Ever since I realised that I was too, and that this straight Jewish dad had all just been one big charade the whole time. Trina was a friend who I thought I loved and I ended up tied down here, stalling breaking her heart.

Am I the only one whose dreams are plagued by this mysterious disease? Do my neighbours not fear it too? Charlotte, dealing with it hands-on in the hospital. Has she not become paranoid? 

“Marvin?” Trina says, voice puncturing the eerie silence of my mind. 

“What?” 

“Charlotte was just telling me how she’s got a night off and was planning on exploring the town tonight.” She says, sickly sweet smile still present. 

I blink, stare. Words aren’t going in. 

“So,” Trina says, the patience slipping, “I told her that I was busy tonight but that you might be up to go, since you seem to love going out so much.” 

Charlotte and Cordelia are looking confused as our tight-knit family facade starts to crumble. 

“Oh.” I say, “Sure. I can do that.” 

They both smile at me. 

“Can I come too?” Jason asks. 

Cordelia ruffles his hair, “I think it’ll be past your bedtime. But I can leave you the leftovers.” 

She winks and he grins again. 

As the doorbell rings again, I see the look on Trina’s face and I know exactly who it is. That’s my cue to leave. I can’t take any more of this man’s wise words today. 

“I heard there was food.” Mendel says, hugging Trina and Jason in turn. 

…

“So, you’re introducing us to a friend?” Charlotte asks. 

A friend. That’s all he can be presently, at least to other people. No matter how many times we kiss, we’re just friends. 

It’s risky, I know, letting my neighbours meet Whizzer. But I think that these women are good people and I like them. I want my circle of people to grow bigger. I want to have more people to turn to when things are rough. I want the happiness I have when I’m with Whizzer to be one I feel when with others too. 

“Yes.” I say, “He’s going to meet us at the bar.” 

Cordelia smiles, “This is so exciting. Meeting more people already.”

Charlotte just laughs and holds her hand as we walk through the night. I wish that was something I could do. I wish I could be so open. I wish I didn’t have to be in such a messy situation. 

I’m sure Trina’s being entertained by Mendel right now, with his terrible jokes and his bad impressions. He’s like a second father to Jason and I despise him for it. He should not be in that house with my son. 

But if I was meant to be in that house, why am I here now? Why did Trina tell me to go out? Why don’t they want me there? 

Maybe Mendel is a better role model to Jason. But it doesn’t mean I like him. I’ll never like him. 

Charlotte looks at me and her eyes are full of tears. 

“I want to thank you Marvin.” She says, “We were practically pushed out of our old town because of our sexuality. You accepted it straight away and just treated us like any other people. It means a lot.” 

I can’t get across how much I want to tell them. I want to tell them that I’m gay and in an unhappy marriage and that the friend we’re going to meet is a lover who’s helping me plan how to explain it to Trina. 

I’m sure that they’d be okay with it. And I want to be honest with someone. But my mouth seems to get stuck and all I can say is:

“It’s no problem. We’re all just human.”

Cars drive past us. People walk. I hear shoes against concrete. Hear engines revving. Children crying. Shouting. Laughing. 

The door of the bar is opened for me, and when I see Whizzer I just want to cry. Why does everything have to be so damn hard? 

He just struts over, slicks back his hair, and holds out his hand in a dramatic flourish. Cordelia laughs and shakes it.

“Something tells me that we’re going to be friends.” She says. 

Whizzer winks at her, “It’s called gaydar, my dear.” 

And she cracks up and Charlotte has to drag her over to a table. I follow, thinking of this man that I’m positive I love, thinking of the wife I’m destined to break, thinking of the child we’re going to leave stranded. 

Thinking of these new friends and fearing that unnamed disease every time I look at Whizzer’s face. 

“So, tell me. What exactly are the dynamics of lesbian sex?”


	6. I'm Breaking Down

Marvin's P.O.V

_**8 months before the death** _

“Are you sure you’re ready to do this?” Whizzer asks.

“No.” I say, “But I need to.”

I hate to be the bad guy. Trina has never put a finger wrong, and now I’m getting ready to do this. She’s an amazing woman - my closest friend as a child who I wrongly thought I fell in love with, whom I so incorrectly judged my feelings for. 

I told myself I was in love with her, and we were married. I got her into this, I’ll get her out. She never deserved me as a husband. She deserved someone who really loved her and would show her that. 

She’s beautiful and kind and funny. She was the person I told everything as a teenager. But time goes by and people drift apart. Men question their sexualities. They fall for their friends. Women break down and try to raise a child in the middle of a battlefield. 

Trina tries to look after Jason even while gunshots and bombs rain down on them. And me, the one with the shield, I’m nowhere to be found. I’m a deserter. 

I’m here in this bunker with Whizzer while my real family is fired at on the front line. And I don’t even try to protect them. In fact, as I prepare my speech now, I’m joining the other army and loading my gun ready to shoot down the people I should love. 

I should love her. But I don’t. I don’t know if there’s something wrong with me or if I just jumped to conclusions too quickly as a kid and all along have been telling myself that any doubts are fake, I married Trina, of course I love her. 

Maybe I rushed into marriage. Whatever the cause is, the outcome is that I will have to make her cry. I will have to watch the woman that I still care about as she shatters into pieces because of my heavy hands, my carelessness. 

My betrayal will finalise which side wins the war. 

“It’ll be okay.” Whizzer says, “You don’t have to do it alone.” 

I don’t deserve pity from him. Trina is the wronged party here. I’m the one who’s doing this horrible thing, but he’s acting like I’m the one who needs support. Mendel was right, it is my fault. It’s all my fault. 

Whizzer shouldn’t have to come. He shouldn’t have to get in harm’s way. Because he’ll be the one Trina aims for, won’t he? He’s the one who will be trespassing in her property. He’ll be the one to face her outrage. 

People shouldn’t keep getting hurt for me. 

“You don’t have to come.” I say, “I can do it.” 

He shakes his head, “I’m not letting you do it on your own.” 

And again we fall into quiet. It’s funny really, the two different sides Whizzer has. For someone so outgoing and suave, he can be surprisingly gentle in moments like this. He can keep a crowd entertained for hours, but also knows exactly how to keep his mouth shut and make you feel empowered. 

I think about what Trina will do. I’m expecting to be banned, maybe never allowed to see her or Jason again. Maybe exiled. Maybe worse. 

Trina isn’t my foe, no matter what my hideous mind tells me. I hope that she finds someone who can really love her, who knows how to treat her right. Someone like Mendel - as disgusting as that thought is. 

Mendel’s what she needs. He can help her recover. He can be the better man. I may never warm to him, but I can see that he makes Trina happier than I could. I’m not that blind. 

“She’s smart.” Whizzer says, “It’ll hurt, but she’ll know it’s what’s best in the long run.” 

I think he’s right. I think that Trina doesn’t love me either. I think she’ll be devastated today, but that soon she’ll look back and be glad I did it. Because I’m letting her go. I’m releasing her from the chains of the perfect housewife role she’s locked herself into. 

“I hope so.” I say. 

I sit with him and I let myself cry, as much as I hate to do it. But I’m crying now because I know that when I talk to Trina later, I’ll have to blink back the tears. 

…

Some of my prayers must be answered because Jason opens the door. He immediately hugs Whizzer, who laughs awkwardly and smiles at my son. 

No hug for me. 

Jason pulls away and looks up at him. 

“Do you want to play chess again?” He asks excitedly, “I’ll let you win this time.”

Whizzer laughs again but there’s something slightly wrong with the way his lips move. I think that this is the most uncomfortable I’ve ever seen him. 

“Sorry kid.” He says, “Not this time.”

Jason sighs. 

Whizzer puts his hands on Jason’s shoulders gently. 

“Hey,” He says, “How about you go up to your room and let us talk about boring adult shi- stuff.” 

Jason smiles again, “And you’ll play next time?” 

Whizzer laughs, “Sure. Only if you let me win though.” 

As Jason runs upstairs, I envy Whizzer’s way of handling kids. My son would never listen to me if I requested the same thing. Because he has no respect for me. He has a psychiatrist to rant at about my failures as a father, for God’s sake. 

Trina appears, her face scrunched up in horror she tries to mask behind a smile. Her skin is printed with too many deep lines and she seems older than the last time I saw her. Will this finish her off? 

She doesn’t speak. She doesn’t ask why we’re here. She doesn’t even try to be nice. She just walks back into the house and I assume that’s a signal to follow. It’s almost like she’s expecting what’s to come. 

I stop as I see Mendel at the dining table. He offers a sheepish smile and a half-hearted wave. It’s like I’ve been replaced by him. Out with the old, in with the new. The second I clear off, he takes my place. 

“I’ll leave.” He says. 

Trina looks like she wants to protest, but her mouth stays shut. As Mendel walks out, he gives her a look that I don’t understand - it’s like something that everyone except me is in on - and he pats my shoulder. 

It feels like he’s wishing me luck. But that’s probably just what I’m desperate to see. 

The door shuts, Trina picks at her nail polish, Whizzer stays tense, Jason’s silent upstairs, I panic.

How do I do it? I’ve got a whole speech prepared in my head, but as I go through it now, I see that it’s too wordy and too formal and is more confusing than this whole situation. It isn’t appropriate for this painful silence. 

A beating heart on either side of me. One that is about to be stabbed. 

I swallow, I look at Trina, I remember how much she smiles when she’s with Mendel, I remember the young girl I told I loved, I remember how everything went stale after our honeymoon. 

I remember how much she hates being around me. I remember the way she pushed me out the house the day Charlotte and Cordelia moved here. I remember that she’s always so much happier without me. 

I remember that this is what she needs. This is what I need. This is what Jason needs. It’s unfair to make him keep living in a house with this kind of tension in the air. He deserves a family that are actually close. 

I look at Trina and see that young girl. Hair in long plaits, braces in her mouth, a grotesque flowered dress that she said made her look like a grandma. 

I remember that child and the promise I made to always keep her happy, not knowing what I’d get her into. She didn’t want this. She wanted a husband who loved her. I lied to that innocent girl without even knowing it, and now that girl’s gone because of me. 

I owe that little girl happiness. 

“I don’t love you Trina.” I say quietly, “I don’t think I ever really did. I admired you and I thought you were great - and I still do - but I labelled my feelings as something they weren’t. It isn’t love.” 

She takes a breath, this horrible, heart wrenching sadness falling on her face. 

“I’m sure you’ve known for a while.” I carry on. If I stop now, I’ll never continue. I need to say it all, “I’m sure you’ve been waiting for this. But Trina, I don’t hate you. I hate me for hurting you. I hate me for everything.” 

Quiet. I’m sure Jason’s listening in. 

“I never wanted to do this.” I say, “And I’m telling you because I want you to be happy again. I want you to be free. I want you to be able to smile like you used to.” 

Breaths. That’s all I hear. 

“It’s nothing to do with you.” I whisper, “You aren’t unloveable. It’s all me. I tried to be the person you needed, but I’m not. I’m not the right one to love you.” 

And she blinks and I see the tears. But it’s her voice that’s the scariest bit. She points a trembling finger at Whizzer and she whispers out dangerously quietly:

“It’s him. He did this. He turned you gay.” 

Her voice is uneven and laced with venom, this shaky draft of wind. Her eyes are dark and dripping and full of aching sadness and anger. I’ve pushed her. She’s throwing her hatred of me onto someone else. 

For the first time, I wish Mendel was here. 

“Trina, it’s not him. I told you, it’s my-” I start. 

“Get out!” She shouts at Whizzer, “Get out of my house!”

My house. Not our house anymore. I’m no longer part of her family. 

She adjusts to that far too easily. It makes me wonder how long she’s been waiting for it to change. 

Whizzer stands up, doesn’t meet my eyes. He tries not to show it, but he looks like someone’s just kicked him. He looks like he’ll start crying as soon as he steps outside. 

This is why I didn’t want him to come. I know Trina. I know that she lashes out at other people, just like I throw around blame. We both have our ways of avoiding problems. 

Trina breathes heavily. I want to comfort her, but she won’t appreciate it. I’ve caused her all this pain. Me near her is the last thing she wants. 

“We need to divorce.” She whispers, her voice weak and thick with tears. 

I don’t know what’s worse - the fact that she’s the one to suggest it, or that I don’t protest. 

I leave Trina’s house, hear Jason rush down immediately, crying and asking if we’re breaking up forever. She tells him we just need some time apart to figure out our differences. But she’s crying. 

Things won’t be the same again. I won’t be welcomed back in that house. But the thing I want to know is - how long have I been subconsciously getting myself used to the idea of divorcing? 

I let my legs take me to Whizzer’s apartment and let my mind stop. Because if it has its way, all I’ll be able to do is regret my words and tell myself what I could’ve said to make Trina react better.


	7. Everyone Hates His Parents

Trina's P.O.V

_**1 hour later** _

Lashing out is a brutal form of self-defense. When I am attacked, I cannot simply sit and let these cruel words have power over me.

When Marvin says that he does not love me, what can I do but retaliate? 

He’s been distant and I guess that part of me has been ready for our paths to go off in opposite directions, but it still came as a shock. 

I’ve been nothing but loyal. I cook for him, I clean for him, I look after our child. And for what? For him to skip off with some other man? 

I feel sick. How long has he been cheating on me? I got bad vibes off that Whizzer guy from the moment I laid eyes on him. But a wave of nausea still runs through me as I imagine what him and my husband have been doing. 

I am irrational. I jump to conclusions. I’m so ill. I screamed at that man who looked ready to cry, who’d come here as nothing more than emotional support for my traitorous soon-to-be-ex-husband. 

I hug Jason. This is a child seeing loss. His father - gone. Gone so quickly, like we never even had anything. Like it was all fake. And was it? Did he ever love me? Has he been holding a blindfold over my eyes for years?

I remember our wedding. So full of flowers and music. My parents told me that Marvin was the one, that this would be the greatest day of my life. 

After mere weeks, my entire purpose was to keep the house tidy while he did God knows what. If what I cooked wasn’t good enough, he’d shout and walk out, leaving me to cry alone. And then when Jason came, I had to pretend things weren’t as screwed up as they seemed. 

Stay stoic Trina, smile for the child. Make sure he doesn’t know the flashing, red thoughts inside your head. 

Where did I go wrong? What did I do to make Marvin stop loving me? Was the food not okay? Did I not iron his clothes straight enough? Did he walk in on one too many breakdowns? 

I scream. I really scream, straining all of my vocal chords, not thinking as Jason stares at me with wide, terrified eyes. 

All I’ve ever done is try to please Marvin. Selfish, cruel, bitchy, sweet, caring Marvin. And oh, it all pays off. I get my trophy. I get yet another scar, another little blemish. Another piece of evidence to the “fragile” label stuck on my forehead.

Stupid man. He’s left a child to live in his ruins. Jason needs a father. I can’t do it alone, though maybe I’ve already been doing it solo for years. 

I scream. Marvin never loved me. He tricked me, all while he was kissing boys. I bet he found it funny, bringing a child into his life, leaving me to look after it. Some great joke - watch as I unravel like a ball of wool. 

Watch as everything spirals out of control. Laugh at her. Laugh at this single mother as she proves to the world how weak she is. 

I married him. I kissed him and I held him and I gave birth to his child. I stuck there through everything, not letting myself be disheartened when he vanished into the night. Because I knew I could trust him. I knew he loved me. 

I cover my ears with my hands. All he’s ever done is lie. What did he really want from me? The sex? No, I’m sure he has men offering him that. The food? Hell, I bet those boys he’s hooking up with are better chefs than me. 

I bet they’re better than me at everything. I bet he loves them. 

I bet he’d marry them and mean it. How can someone be so cruel as to fool me into believing they really love me, only to tell me it’s fake? All those words - an apology, saying he still cares. Some shit. 

I don’t think that man knows how to care for someone. Not for me, not for his son, probably not even for his little friend that I shouted at. I bet Marvin’s just playing some evil game with him too. 

I bet he enjoys seeing people get hurt. I bet he took pleasure in watching as his words clicked together in my mind. I bet he’s laughing this up right now with that man. 

I scream. Why are men such monsters? We live in a world ruled by men, and yet they’re the worst of us all. They want sex and food from you, but they don’t know how to love. And what’s worse is that they’re all so damn happy, while I don’t even know what happy means anymore. 

“Mr. Mendel.” Jason says into the phone, voice far off and weak, “Please come to our house.”

I was willing to do anything for Marvin. Whatever he wanted. But he never wanted me. 

My son. I want Jason out the room. I don’t want him watching in fear as I claw at my ears and scream. He shouldn’t have to see this. He should have a perfect family who love him and who keep him safe.

Why does he have to be here? I can see him shaking and crying out the corner of my eye, putting down the phone. I can feel my heart pounding in my head and mouth. The world is spinning and all I can hear is my own shrill wails. 

I don’t want to see anyone. I don’t want to see Marvin or Mendel or the neighbours or my son. 

…

“Do you want to talk about what happened, Trina?” Mendel asks. 

I don’t want him here. I’m glad that Jason was sent outside to put his headphones on, but I don’t want a psychiatrist to ask me questions either. I’m frightened of his questions.

I’m scared of his judgement. I’m scared of talking about my feelings. 

Because what Marvin’s made me feel today - this is something I’ve never felt before. This is anger and deep remorse and something stabbing me. 

I sit with my elbows propped up on the table, my head in my hands. I like Mendel, but I can’t deal with this right now. I just want to lie down and drown in my tears. I want to sleep until I make sense of this, until I’ve picked apart each of Marvin’s words. 

I want Jason to know that it’s okay. I want to know that it’s okay. 

The doorbell rings. I don’t move. Mendel gets up to answer it. 

“Oh, Dr. Mendel.” Cordelia’s voice floats down the corridor. 

I think I could sink into this floor. I think I could fall and curl up forever. I could leave Jason with someone else and get away from Marvin and the aching in my chest every time I think his name. 

I want to get out of this. I want to be in a world where marriages last and husbands stay straight. Where children know how to talk to their parents and where people can just be friends and not have to go further. 

I don’t love Marvin. I haven’t loved him for a long time. But I’m not ready to leave him behind. I can’t accept that he loves another man and that we’re going to get divorced. 

I don’t love him but I wasn’t ready for our little act to end. 

Cordelia’s voice lowers, “I heard crying. Charlotte’s at work and I’m alone and I thought I should check everything’s okay.” 

Mendel sighs, “We’re okay, thanks. I’m here now, but I appreciate the concern.” 

“Right.” Cordelia says, “Well, I’m next door if you need anything.”

The door shuts. I curse myself. I’m worrying everyone. Though is that my fault? Surely it’s all Marvin. He did this. He broke everything we’d built. 

Mendel walks back in, looks at me. I hate the concern in his eyes. I thought that he would be the one person who didn’t treat me like a charity case. I thought he’d understand and not make me feel guilty about it - not make me feel like there’s something wrong with me. 

I thought the idea of a psychiatrist is that they tell you that your feelings are completely normal and you’re not insane. They reassure you and ease your mind. 

Then why am I panicking just from being in the same room as him? Why am I so self-conscious and aware of all the bad parts of me he has to see as a professional? Why am I so scared to talk to him? 

I think of Marvin and want to cry again. I bet he’s all happy right now with that young man, already forgetting what he’s done to me. I bet he has a clean conscience. 

I think of Cordelia and want to cry even more. She’s been nothing but lovely to me since her and Charlotte moved. Never once did she do anything to warrant that scared edge I heard in her voice. 

I think of Jason and I start to cry. He’s a child. He’s never misbehaved. What did he do wrong to end up with this pathetic excuse of a family? What did he do to end up with a cruel father and a stupid mother? 

Mendel rubs my back gently as I sob. I don’t care that he’s seeing me like this. I just need comfort. I need company. I need to talk about Marvin. 

“We’re getting divorced.” I choke out, my voice breaking, “He cheated on me.” 

I fall into another fit of sobs, Mendel patiently moving his hand over the same spot of floral fabric. He waits and waits and it melts my frozen heart because he’s not laughing, he’s not interrogating. He’s doing exactly what I need. 

I fell out of love with Marvin a while ago. I thought that the fire had been put out for good. But Mendel’s hand and presence spreads a beautiful warmth through my body. It makes me feel alive. 

“I’m so sorry Trina.” He whispers, his hand falling still on my back. 

I don’t want an apology. I want answers. I want to know what I’m supposed to do now. I want to see my future. 

I want to know if Jason will be okay, if Marvin will stay out of my life forever. Will I still have to share my son with him? I guess it’s wrong to deny him that. But what happens now? We split. But is that really the end? 

I want to know everything, but it’s impossible. 

“I hate him.” I say.

Mendel frowns. 

“You know,” He says quietly, “I think this was as hard on Marvin as it was you. I think he’s struggling too, wherever he is.” 

That’s not true. He made the decision. He obviously wanted this. That man doesn’t have an ounce of regret in his body. 

Jason upstairs, Cordelia next door, Mendel beside me. These are all people who care, who I can’t let down. 

“Please don’t leave.” I say. 

And it’s now, as Mendel takes my hand and wipes away a tear, that I realise I’m in love with him.


End file.
